


Desert Dawn

by Pureauthor



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Gen, fegenweek2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 18:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13300701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pureauthor/pseuds/Pureauthor
Summary: The idea of bringing light to a desert kingdom seemed ludicrous on the surface. And yet, that was what they truly needed now. For FE Gen Week.





	Desert Dawn

Desert Dawn

* * *

Day 1: Light

Here we go with FE Gen Week! This also gives me a chance to dust out a few story ideas that I never did get around to writing. Hopefully it'll turn out well.

* * *

On the face of it, the idea of bringing light to a desert kingdom probably seemed like a bad joke. It was often said that in the heat of midday, you'd burn your eyes out faster by staring Jehenna's endless sand dunes than you would looking directly at the sun.

But light was what the land needed, regardless. Grado's invasion, the death of the queen, the sudden reappearance of Jehanna's lost prince after all the furore had died down...

Well, times like these, everyone could all use a little bit of light. At least that was the way Joshua saw it.

He stood on the balcony of the New Jehanna Palace (did they really need to call it new? It was mostly a very extensive renovation of the old burned out one...), staring out at the vastness of the desert that stretched away before him. In the light of the predawn, it looked like a grey world of silence.

“Oh? You're up early, boss.”

“You know,” he didn't bother to look over his shoulder, instead lowering his gaze to the coin he held in his palm, “I appreciate that technically I _am_ your boss now, but I have to say I don't feel comfortable being called that.”

“What?” Gerik's laugh was a lot like the man himself – confident and open, one that invited you to trust in him and his capabilities. “You'd prefer 'Your Majesty' then?”

A snort escaped Joshua's lips before he flipped the coin. It spun once, twice, three times before Joshua snatched it out of the air again. “No. Definitely not.”

“Well, I can't just call you 'Joshua'. Enough people are giving me sideways glances already whenever I walk down the halls.”

Joshua sighed, the breath puffing out in the coldness of the desert night. “Yeah, I know how it is. Old habits die hard. The old guard probably don't know how to deal with a mercenary suddenly being made Captain of the Guard. At least most of them accept that talent's talent.” He chose not to mention that many of the staff were likewise unused to dealing with eccentricities and habits that Jehenna's new sovereign had retained from his life a vagabond mercenary. On that note, he glanced down at the heavy coin in his hand.

“Oh, I knew they always valued us.” Gerik heaved a sigh of his own as he strolled forward and folded his arms. “Just as long as we stayed out in the field, fighting and dying for whoever's purse was the heaviest.”

Joshua didn't reply immediately, and his expression clouded over. No doubt Gerik noticed this, because he took a step over.

“Anything the matter?”

“... Hey, Gerik.” Joshua's smile was brittle. “Did I ever tell you why I chose to leave the royal life behind for a while?”

“Well, I do recall you saying something about you wanting to learn more about the common people you'd lead as king.” Gerik shrugged his shoulders. “Not a half bad goal, really.”

“Yeah...” A short chuckle from Joshua. “Not to say I didn't get sidetracked a fair bit... well, I was younger then.”

“And _now_ you're a bitter old man at two decades of age, made cynical by the harsh world.” Gerik folded his arms and turned around, leaning against the carved balustrade. “But I know what you mean. At that age, what's a night or a couple of days wasted drinking yourselves blind drunk and gambling away your life's saving? You're young. You can make it back later. And that's true, right up until you get cocky and lose that one thing you can't get back.”

“Yeah, I know...” For a moment, Joshua's thoughts drifted to Natasha, still in bed and sleeping peacefully. “You move along, you pick up more things than you thought you would. And some of them you realize you can't exactly bear to part with. But... sometimes Lady Luck just isn't smiling on you.” Another flip of the coin. He barely bothered to track its movements before snatching it out of the air again.

A snort from his side. “Didn't I tell you before? That's defeatist talk. If your only response is to throw your hands up in the air and claim it's all luck, then that means you're not taking responsibility for what happens.”

“And when bad luck strikes anyway?”

“Then it's your job to be prepared for it. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. That's how the saying goes, isn't it?”

“I knew I made you my advisor for a reason.”

“I thought it was because you said I had a knack for commanding my men and leading them.”

“Yeah, about that...” Joshua shifted, as if uncomfortable. The idea wasn't new. He'd flirted with it, even back in his days as a wanderer. But the reality of being able to implement it... well, it had always seemed like something distant, something in the future. “Hey, Gerik. I feel like I already know the answer, but what do you think of mercenary work?”

“Hm? Well,” the older man tipped his head to the side, as if considering the idea for the first time, “I guess I'd say it seems to me a job like any other. Do the work given to you, collect your pay, and go spend it. 'Course, this particular line of work tends to have a higher fatality rate than most.”

“Yeah, it's that part that bothers me. Most of the kids who get into that line of work never realize how high the stakes can get – and they end up feeding the crows.”

“... Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but many soldiers do the same. I mean, there's something to be said for stronger organizations and access to a kingdom's resources, but at the end of the day, killing is killing.”

“True enough. Never going to be able to cut out the need for soldiers and warriors entirely...” He paused, and sighed. “Still, if possible, I'd like it if in the years to come, Jehanna's main export wasn't killing.”

Gerik didn't respond – at least, not verbally. Instead he folded his arms, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“I've been through that life and came out it on the other side – and you have too. I won't deny that it had its share of fun and upsides... but well, I saw too many good men end up in ditches. And a few men who started out good but just got broken and ended up like beasts or worse.”

That was the dark side of the job – the darkness of being in a profession where to live was to kill. You became immersed in it too long, and sometimes you forgot what the light looked like. And sometimes you no longer desired to return to it.

“...I'm not saying it's not a nice idea, but the reason so many Jehannans turn to the sword to find work is that there isn't a whole lot else to make industry from out here in the desert. That's the way it's been, ever since the nation was founded.”

“Well, 'that's the way it's always been' isn't a particularly good reason for keeping it that way.” A thin smile graced the king's lips. “After all, not many kings once went incognito as a vagrant. And not many of them ended up hiring a mercenary leader to be their right hand man.”

“True enough.” A sigh. “Well, I'd say you should keep your expectations realistic. Transforming Jehanna's economy isn't going to be an overnight thing. Even if you can start the change, you might not live to see it completed.”

“True. But do you think it can be done?”

“Who knows?” Gerik chuckled. “Any dozens of things could go wrong, with any plan we try to implement.”

“You think so too, huh?” The laugh was returned as he held up his palm. “Well then, let's call on Lady Luck once more, hm?”

A sigh from Gerik. “Look-”

“Uh-uh. Consider it a royal order. What'll it be? Head or Tails? If you guess it right, then we'll succeed, no matter how long it takes. If not... well, we can worry about that later. So, call it.”

Gerik glanced at the coin before fixing Joshua with an even gaze. “That wouldn't happen to be the double-headed coin you always carry with you, would it?”

“... Maybe.”

A snort from his right-hand man. “All right then. Heads it is.”

There was a sound, like a tiniest bell in the world had just been rung, as Joshua flicked his thumb upwards. They both watched as the coin spun through the air.

And for one moment, just as the coin reached the top of its jump, it gleamed, shining with golden light as the sun finally peeked over the vastness of the desert horizon.

* * *

**Story End**

* * *

**Author Notes:** This story ended up becoming way more talky than I thought it would be.

Also I rediscovered that I indeed have trouble sticking with story prompts. Oh well.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!


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